


Something Worth Fighting For

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: F/M, hurt_comfort bingo, kotor ii spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Former Jedi General Arawn Sinn tries to come to grips with the aftermath of the meeting on Dantooine. LSF Exile/Atton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Worth Fighting For

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Written for the hurt_comfort bingo prompt "Forced soulbonding".

They were dead. All of them, dead. After all this time she had invested trying to find them, to rally them against the Sith, they had fallen back into their old ways, refusing to face the Sith, refusing to save the galaxy -- and then trying to strip her of the Force, if only because of the idea that somehow, she was a threat.  _A wound in the Force_...  
  
She had thought that the Force being stripped from her was some sort of punishment -- punishment for disobeying the Jedi Code. As if the Force had struck from beyond to deal judgment upon her. The thought she might have done it unintentionally, instinctively, if only to protect herself from the pain of all these deaths -- even now, it had never quite struck her, but at the same time, it made sense. The screams of the dying, crushed in the gravity well of Malachor V, utterly annihilated -- she had been unable to bear it. All that agony, all those deaths resonating through the Force, overwhelming her senses to the point she was drowning in screams.   
  
And to think that she was unconsciously influencing others, all but mind controlling them into doing what she wanted. Mira, never one to kill, becoming all too willing to pick up a blaster (or lightsaber, in this case) if necessary. The Handmaiden, forsaking her oath to be trained as a Jedi. And so many others.  
  
She never wanted to conquer or rule anyone. Then again, neither did Revan in the beginning -- and he had become one of the most fearsome Sith Lords in Galactic history. Could she be heading down this path?  
  
It was then that she felt Atton's presence behind her. "We're nearly coming up on Telos," he said, "Are you all right?" His voice became softer even as he spoke.  
  
"I'm all right. Just in a bit of shock." A pause. "Shouldn't you be in the cockpit?"

"We're on AutoPilot until we reach Telos. Don't worry. It's not like we're going to crash into something on our way there."  
  
Arawn laughed, if slightly. But even then, remembering the Jedi Masters, she felt almost sick. As if she shouldn't be laughing. "Atton -- is there a reason you follow me?"  
  
"Of course there is. I mean, really," Atton said, smiling if slightly, "You think I was better off as a coward? I can't imagine why any one of us wouldn't want to follow you into the depths of hell and back."  
  
"Maybe." Even now, something in Arawn couldn't help but doubt it.  
  
"Did something happen in the Enclave?"  
  
Something in Arawn broke, and she nodded. "I went to the Enclave. I thought that the Jedi Masters would start seeing sense -- that we could at least ally against the Sith. It didn't work. And when I asked them about what happened to me at Malachor, they said that all the deaths I caused at Malachor and the subsequent severing of my connection to the Force -- they said I was a wound in the Force. The death of the Force itself." She was almost painfully aware that she wasn't making sense, but once she started talking, she doubted she was able to stop. "They tried to cut me off from it, just to protect the galaxy -- I think from their point of view, they were doing the right thing. Kreia intervened -- she taunted them. Crushed the life out of them. And then...you know what happened next. The Handmaidens took her back to the Academy, and I found you."   
  
Silence.  
  
"Arawn," Atton said, "If you can pardon my Huttese for a moment, that is seriously kriffed up."  
  
"I know."  
  
"The Council's wrong, you know. Honestly -- if they've ever set foot outside their little Enclaves and transparisteel towers, I'd be surprised. Hell, I don't think they even know what the word 'leadership' means, let alone things like 'friendship', 'unity' -- things like that. I don't think the Jedi Code allows them to feel those things, at least."   
  
"Well, that's not entirely true," Arawn said, "I mean, compassion is a form of unconditional love, so one could say we're at least encouraged to love."  
  
"Well, from what I can gather, I don't think they're really good in that department either. Point is, they're wrong. And I don't think they know this, but really -- without you, I'd still be a complete and utter mess. In a way, you put me back together. Any other Jedi would have dumped me on the nearest backwater planet if they had figured out what I'd done. So in short -- don't worry." Atton patted her shoulder. "I'm not going to leave you."  
  
Arawn smiled, if weakly. "Thank you, Atton." She doubted that it was going to repair everything -- if anything, there were still so many questions unanswered. So many things. But even so...   
  
It was after a while of meditating together -- there was simply something soothing about Atton's presence. There always was, in a way, some sort of comfort in that brash, cocky, utterly likeable young man -- that Arawn noticed something in Atton's Force presence. Something almost uncertain, even somewhat afraid. Vulnerable, even.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked. Even now, she could not help but almost ridicule herself for the way it came out.  
  
"I'm fine," Atton said, "It's just..." He took a deep breath. "I...I just wanted to tell you. I didn't know how to tell you before. Tried to play it off as a joke; wasn't funny -- "  
  
"Atton, you're not making any sense."  
  
Atton grinned. "Do I ever?"  
  
"Atton," she said in exasperation; as wonderful as Atton was, he could also make her angry without even trying. Or sometimes through trying -- if anything, it was usually whenever he was teasing her. Ribbing her a bit, almost like old friends. Almost, she realized painfully, like she and Revan and Malak used to do as kids. They had been so innocent back then, so ignorant about the ways of the galaxy at large -- even now, if someone in the Enclave had told Arawn that Revan would become a power-hungry conqueror, let alone some bizarre sort that did what he did if only because whatever threat he was worried about could possibly be worse, she wouldn't have believed them. Because they were wrong. Revan was a good man -- she had looked up to him once, not as a father figure, but as an older brother figure. And then as the war progressed, as his sanity began to slip, as the war got worse and worse, she found the pedestal of sorts she had put Revan on beginning to crack, to shatter slowly.  
  
And all that had ultimately led up to Malachor. Where she had lost everything she'd ever had, everything she'd ever wanted. And all this done to stop the Mandalorians -- to save the galaxy.  
  
And somehow, it had resulted in worse. She could still remember Vrook's words to her,  _"...a hole, a hunger that cannot be filled"_ ,  _"somehow they have learned their hunger from you"_...had she created those creatures, those Sith assassins? They had been ultimately born from war, after all. Even the realization of what they truly were was terrifying, and yet at the same time, liberating. Perhaps from there, once they rescued Kreia (and possibly Telos), Arawn could at least try to put things right from there. Atone for what she did. There had to be a way, after all.  
  
"Atton," she said again, "I was being serious."  
  
Atton seemed to go silent.  
  
"You felt it, no doubt? The Sith Lord at Telos?"  
  
"Yes." Atton closed his eyes. "I...it's just a feeling. Like one of us isn't going to come back." He turned to look at her. "Or none of us, really. I already nearly lost you twice. I can't lose you again."  
  
"You're not going to lose me," Arawn said, trying to smile, if only in vain. "Don't talk like that. Everything's going to be fine." And yet even now, the Sith Lord's presence loomed in the back of her mind, bleak and terrifying, and yet somehow familiar. Horribly so.  
  
"Maybe. Point is..." Atton took a deep breath. "I love you, Arawn. Ever since the moment I saw you -- I tried to play it off as some sort of joke." He smiled, bitterly. "I can't say it was that funny. But I love you, more than anything."  
  
Even now, Arawn sat in silence. Pondering. Atton had loved her all this time, and somehow she had never known. She hadn't noticed. And yet...  
  
"I do too."   
  
Atton reached towards her, squeezing her hand, if only lightly. Arawn grinned through the sadness -- he had done it before, to console her after Nar Shaddaa and nightmares about Malachor. But somehow, here, it meant something greater.  _No matter what happens,_ the touch said,  _I will never, ever leave you._  
  
This war was far from over. But at the very least, with Atton by her side, with the rest of the crew at her back, at the very least, facing the Sith suddenly seemed very easy.   
  
They were a team. The team.  
  
And no matter what others said, they always would be. 


End file.
